


Weakness

by Demial



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night: Unlimited Blade Works (Anime 2014)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dom/sub, F/M, Insecurity, Leashes, M/M, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-04-24 12:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19173724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demial/pseuds/Demial
Summary: Some one-shots I wrote to get my feelings out while feeling not-so-good. All gender neutral reader.





	1. Cu Chulainn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was based on the gif at the top of [this page](https://demialwrites.tumblr.com/post/185512681908/a-short-thing-based-on-the-gif-above-more)

Cu sat by your side. His chill level belied his readiness. He was the embodiment of a tightly coiled, tightly controlled, spring. He let his bright red spear rest against his collarbone and the bottom of it on the ground. You watched him watch the area around him, alert. You imagined his sharp red eyes missed nothing. And perhaps his ears did, too. If you allowed yourself to sigh, he would catch it.  
  
You might sigh because you were jealous of his spear, Gae Bolg. It was his closest companion. He knew every inch of it, every nick from battle. He knew how to polish it and make it look like new again. His fingers ghosted over the details as he inspected it. He gripped it tight during tense situations. That weapon was his key to living through each fight.  
  
Sadly, you wished that was you he held tight, touched gently, and was treasured like an old, well-known friend. If Cu kissed his spear on top of all that, you would probably wail about the unfairness of it all.  
  
Cu shifted and his Gae Bolg now rested again his inner thigh.  
  
You prayed,  _Could you please, please touch his thighs in that spear’s place?_  
  
He turned his head to look at you. “It’s a quiet night, eh, Master?”  
  
Before you answered, you noted his earrings bouncing against his cheek with the movement.  _Could he let you caress his cheek?_  
  
“Yeah, it is,” you replied.  
  
His eyebrows rose.  
  
“Yeah, but you seem uneasy. Something I don’t know about?”  
  
“Ummm.”  
  
He leaned towards you, grinning. “C'mon. You can tell me. Haven’t I earned your trust?”  
  
“You have but…”  
  
“Ahhh, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He waved dismissively with a good-natured smile. “I don’t mean to pry.”  
  
You sighed, the tension easing. But it was replaced with that familiar yearning you felt while looking at him.


	2. Heroic Spirit Emiya

Maybe it was just you but the silence was awkward.  
  
Your archer servant, Emiya, seemed used to waiting patiently for the next thing to happen. But nothing _was_ going to happen next. You played this awful game of trying to stare at his face while he wasn't looking. And you were losing because he often sensed your gaze and glanced at you, making you look away.  
  
You kind of...sort of...wanted to ask him to stay. He was free now to do as he wished. He wasn't going back to the Throne of Heroes or to be a guardian. You were terrified to find out that he didn't want to stay. He had had more than enough barbed comments about your inexperience and weakness over the course of your partnership. Perhaps he hadn't meant to, but he made you feel like a burden. You had trouble letting go of those tiny cuts his words he made. They festered, until today and it still hurt deep inside.  
  
If he had been so miserable as your Servant, why hadn't he left yet?  
  
"Master," he said quietly.  
  
The word was spoken gently and yet it still startled you like a sudden shout. You returned his gaze, pushing your feelings down and hopefully off your face.  
  
"I'm glad this is over. You were never meant for this."  
  
There he went again, talking about how terrible of a Master you were.  
  
"Not that I know much about such a subject but...I think you will be happier being a normal person. With normal problems."  
  
Right then you felt the need to explain yourself. "Listen, I know I wasn't good enough but-"  
  
Your voice had started to obviously falter so you stopped. Emiya's expression fell and he looked down to the floor.  
  
"It wasn't that," he said.  
  
You frowned and he continued.  
  
"I just don't think you should have been given this burden. It was unfair to you. You weren't prepared."  
  
You were frowning more deeply, trying to take in each word as unbelievable as they were. He no longer placed the blame squarely on you. Wait, had he put the blame on you this entire time...? Had you been wrong about him all along?  
  
"I didn't realize," was all you mumbled awkwardly in response.  
  
"Maybe that was my fault," he said, smiling in that unhappy way he did. Then he stared at you pointedly, with knit brows. He wanted your full attention. "I wanted to request something from you, Master. Can I stay and help make you happy? I'm not good at that kind of thing myself, as I said, but you know I'd at least be a good roommate..."  
  
He was referring to his ability to houseclean and his handiness. That went over your head as you hadn't expected to hear that at all.  
  
Your heart pounding in your chest, you blurted, "R-really?!"  
  
"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't serious." When you didn't reply right away, he continued. "Even though I hardly deserve it," he swallowed, "I miss having a normal, quiet life myself. If you don't want me to stay, at least let me help out until I can find another place."  
  
Unable to trust yourself from babbling incoherently, you nodded furiously instead.  
  
His expression sharpened. He stood up straighter. His hand closed into a tight fist in front of his chest.  
  
"Alright. Then I will keep this house clean the likes of which it never has been." Then he turned around to leave to get right on that, to your amazement. "Not that it will be hard..."  
  
"Wow, you ass!"  
  
You heard him chuckle down the hallway.


	3. Caster Gilgamesh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, kind of, if you haven't done the Babylonia singularity in fgo

You, the last Master, arrive and King Gilgamesh dismisses you.  
  
His help is needed. He's the central figure of the resistance in this singularity. But his gaze bore through you, into your soul, and out the back. It was a through-and-through shot and he found you wanting in that second.  
  
He was better than you, knew more about this singularity than you, and was stronger than you. So what? So what if it was true?  
  
You started to shrink to the size you were when you were a child. A scared child, looking for reassurance from a nearby adult. A sob struggling to burst free.  
  
What if it was true you were flawed? And had weaknesses? You were the last master; couldn't he see that? It didn't matter if you weren't fit for the job. You were the only one who could do it. Why did he ignore you like a child separated from its mother? Kings weren't in charge of children. They were in charge of kingdoms. Until you proved otherwise, you weren't worth more than a second.  
  
So what if it was true?  
  
You were a hair away from falling to your butt and sobbing like you had been push there by the king himself. Pushed on the playground by a bully stronger than you just because he was a couple of years older. How dare he! You wanted to go back to Chaldea where it was safe.  
  
After it was all said and done. After the singularity had been repaired and the king had welcomed his death, you had the poor luck of summoning him from the Throne of Heroes as a Servant. With all the friends made, surprises, friends who died, the ups and downs, the awful ending to the singularity...you didn't think you could handle seeing his arrogant face. It brought all of the memories and feelings back.  
  
"Send him back, SEND HIM BACK!" you yelled, not to anyone in particular.  
  
Can you even send a Servant back?  
  
"How dare you!" he said. "I came to return your aid and this-"  
  
"I don't want to hear it!" you yelled louder, interrupting him.  
  
You turned around and walked out of the summoning room. Gilgamesh followed, very unhappy that he had been interrupted and wishing to lecture you now that he had ample time to do so.  
  
"You fool! You need me!"  
  
You rounded on him. "And you needed _me_. And what did you do? All but tell me to fuck off. So... _fuck off._ "  
  
"Fool," he said more quietly.  
  
More quietly than his usual volume. A normal volume, for anyone else. That stopped you. You turned around.  
  
"You think I was able to place my trust in you right away?" he asked. "You think I had such a luxury? My people's lives and the future hung in the balance so I had to make doubly sure you had it in you to take on the responsibilities I gave you. I knew you had it in you but I _had_ to make sure. It was too important. More important than your ego or even mine." His spiel gave you food for thought. He noted your thoughtful expression and continued. "Let me help. You won't win without me-"  
  
You scoffed, but all the anger had drained from your body. He looked like nothing but a puffed bird during mating season, bragging about himself and looking for attention.  
  
"Now that I'm here, you will win," he insisted. "You might as well dismiss all other Servants present."  
  
"Your Majesty, you are ridiculous," you said, smiling despite yourself. "But I welcome your help."  
  
That was good enough for him so he smiled back.


	4. Cu Chulainn Alter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man this one turned out fluffier than I intended, but enjoy anyway

When you summoned Cu Chulainn in his alternate, 'dark,' form, he was a good servant. He followed all orders without question. But he lacked the vitality and lust for life that shined through in the other Cu's. In its place was savagery and a love only for fighting.  
  
He noticed you searching for something in him that wasn't there. Searching his lidded eyes and his mouth pressed into a thin line for hints in his expression. As far as he knew, that expression didn't change much. Your gaze prickled along his skin and made the spines on his tail stick out straighter. At first, he couldn't care less, same as he felt about everything else. But then it started to bother him. It bothered him more and more like a growing weight on his body. He couldn't let it affect his ability to fight so he confronted you about it.  
  
"Why do you stare at me?"  
  
He tried to snap at you with that question but it came out more like his usual tone. So you answered honestly.  
  
"I can't figure out how you're Cu Chulainn and yet you're not."  
  
You got up on your toes to peer closer. Your searching eyes stirred something within him that he was uncomfortable with. Wasn't used to.  
  
"Don't."  
  
His sad, drooping eyes struck you deep. You reached up and looped an arm around his neck, pulling his head down to your shoulder. He turned to huff into your neck, still resisting your affection.  
  
"I won't tell anyone that you're secretly soft," you told him.  
  
"Hmph." He sneered. "You think we'll share a secret? Like friends or something?"  
  
"You care!" you accused stubbornly. "You wouldn't have looked like a big, sad puppy if you didn't care."  
  
"Hmph."  
  
He made no move to leave your space so you began to stroke the back of his head through his hood.  
  
"A puppy, huh?" he asked.  
  
"Mhmm."  
  
You squeezed his head to your neck and he grunted. But still, he stayed there.  
  
"You wanna...be my puppy, King Cu?" you asked with a shy smile.  
  
He grunted again and straightened up.  
  
"What does that even mean?" he asked.  
  
You grinned up at him.  
  
"It means I have an idea..."  
  
Cu Alter now joined you for breakfast in your room, sitting next to you. His tail coiled loosely next to him. He didn't eat. He just enjoyed your company and the affection you insisted on giving him. You tugged on his leash, the one attached to the blood-red collar around his neck. That was the signal for "lean down, I want a kiss, please."  
  
You shyly pecked his lips. He took more than you offered, chasing you to kiss you harder. Then a quick nip to your bottom lip for good measure, with teeth bared slightly. He flashed you a weak smile.  
  
"You're a fool," he teased. "I could tear off this collar and kill you at any time.”  
  
"I'm a fool for  _you_. And you won't."  
  
"Hmph." 


	5. Archer Gilgamesh

"Stop stressing!" Gilgamesh snapped at you. He was in his full armour. All its golden, shining, clinking glory. That means he meant business. "It affects me through our bond. I do not appreciate it."  
  
He tapped the toe of his sabaton on the floor. After he did that, his face lit up with an idea. He walked over to where you were standing. He wordlessly pointed to the floor. You sighed, still not feeling great, and got down on your knees.  
  
"Hands on the ground, Mongrel," he growled quietly.  
  
You bent farther down to plant your palms on the ground. His sabatons walked over to land on either side of your right hand. You looked up at him with a question on your face.  
  
"Mm-mmm," he scolded, bringing a fist to his chin thoughtfully.  
  
Ah.  
  
You lowered your eyes to the floor. One of his feet scraped towards your hand. Your fingers twitched with the urge to pull your hand away.  
  
"Show me your obedience. Hold still. You won't be harmed." His commanding tone, well-practiced, melted any remaining tendency to think for yourself like butter. Plus, he never lied. If he said he wouldn't hurt you, he wouldn't hurt you. "Mmm?"  
  
"Yeah. Your Majesty," you mumbled.  
  
"Hmmm."  
  
He crouched down and lifted your chin to confirm it, that your eyes were clouded over. That the stress lines were smoothing from your face. It was obvious from his smirk that he was smug about guessing right; that you needed this. He enjoyed making sure you were a functioning Master, much like an owner fussed over a beloved, foolish pet, and he also thought he had you completely figured out.  
  
Keeping a hold of your chin with a gauntlet-covered hand, he wormed his pointer finger from his other hand into the corner of your mouth.  
  
"You must be wondering: where has that been? Is it dirty?" His lips curled. You stared back blankly. "This is the closest you are getting to my cock so make sure to enjoy it."  
  
Your lips closed around his finger. Keeping that smirk on his lips while slowly pumping his finger in and out.  
  
Once he grew bored of that, he pulled the finger out and wiped it clean on your shirt. Right over where your nipple lay beneath, causing you to shiver. You tried to glance down at his hand but he pulled your chin back up.  
  
"Eyes on me!" he snapped.  
  
You had irritated him, judging by how he moved the hand on your chin to your neck to guide you over and onto your back. Swiftly but gently. Then he stood, looking down at you with disgust.  
  
He stomped his heel. "I have simple demands of you. Yet you cannot follow them." He lifted that same foot and let his sabaton come to rest on your midsection. "What should I do with you?"  
  
You knew that was rhetorical and kept silent. Replying would be considered insolence, even if you only pointed out that he had been giving you mixed signals. You remained there, silent, while he stepped over your body until he was standing directly over you. The red fabric flowing from under his armour gathered gently on your stomach.  
  
"Wait there like a good pet while I think." He already sounded distant. He held his chin in his fist thoughtfully again.  
  
Just waiting was relaxing in itself. Your life in someone else's hands and there was no need to worry.  
  
"Ah," he said, stepping from your body. "Come."  
  
He went over to the best seat in your house. A leather armchair. He got comfortable in it and waited for you to join him. He rested his cheek on his fist and his elbow on the armrest.  
  
"What are you waiting for? Come here."  
  
You pulled yourself up off the floor with effort. He shifted in his seat, spreading his knees. You took that as a signal to sit on his lap instead of kneeling on the floor. He gathered the red fabric up onto his lap as a pseudo-cushion before you sat.  
  
"Just for you," he purred.  
  
You sat in his lap, your shoulder leaning on his chest plate. He brought a gauntlet up and began to stroke your hair, down the back of your neck, and continued down your upper back. You took a deep sigh, letting out the residual tension. He continued to stroke, very proud of himself that you responded well.  
  
 _Of course, I know how to take care of you, Mongrel_ , he was thinking.  
  
You were just glad to get some loving attention from him.


End file.
